


Mistakes Are Best Made With Alcohol

by peppermint_latte



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Arson, Bad Decisions, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Guilt, Lies, M/M, Other, Premonition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 21:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17087786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermint_latte/pseuds/peppermint_latte
Summary: The District Attorney starts having strange dreams about a party Mark is planning to host at his manor, will they head the strange warning or walk into the trap?





	Mistakes Are Best Made With Alcohol

It starts when I wake up covered in sweat a nightmare fading from my mind for the fourth night in a row.

I slump a little and lean up against my headboard. It’s the same nightmare, I’ve had it before several times over the last 15 years but these last four days I’ve had it every night.

It’s about Mark’s death, and my own at a party of his. It’s been bothering me more lately because it’s a poker night. That’s how it starts, and Mark has invited me to a poker night 3 days from now.

It’s always bothered me that Damien’s friend William is in it as I’ve never met him. Sure I’ve seen photos of the three of them, and Damien and Mark have told me plenty of stories.

But the part that bothers me, is that the first time I had the dream William was not yet a Colonel, so how could I know he would be?

Laying there thinking about the strangeness surrounding my reoccurring dream I can’t help but wonder if it’s some kind of warning.

Surely, not. Surely the events in that dream could not come to pass. I bite my lip, somehow I’m still unconvinced.

I get up and walk over to my writing desk. I pick up Mark’s invitation and walk back over to my bed. I lay back down against the headboard.

I stare at it. It can’t be. It can’t. But all the details are impossibly correct. How could my mind have known that I would become the District Attorney? I hadn’t even considered that as something that I might want to pursue yet back then.

How did I know Mark and Celine would divorce? I hadn’t even had a clue back then. Not that I knew Celine personally, but knowing Mark he had seemed happy when he spoke of her.

It’s completely impossible, and yet I am still worried. It’s better to not go at all.

It’s decided, I’ll skip it and say that I’m sick. But what about Damien?

If there is any chance those awful events are truly going to come to pass what might happen to him? I can’t take that risk, I’ll have to find a way to stop him from going. A plan starts to form in my mind.

_

In the morning I visit him at his office, I have some things I need to speak to him about concerning work anyway. After business is finished I tell him I’ve changed my mind, that I would like to celebrate my new position over a few drinks with him. He agrees happily and we set a time and place to meet later this evening.

After my work day ends I go home and freshen up, before leaving to meet Damien.

When I arrive nerves twist my gut, can I really tell him the truth? Will he even believe me? I take a deep breath, I trust Damien it will be fine. Hopefully.

I walk into the bar and look around, quickly finding the table Damien is sitting at and joining him. He’s already ordered us drinks and I quickly drink mine, I’m going to need it.

As the night goes on I take it slow enough to still be aware and coherent, Damien less so.

There is a point at which he is still sober enough I’m sure he’ll remember any conversation we have but fear weighs my tongue down like lead. I can’t get the words out no matter how hard I try.

I missed my chance as it turns out, as after that he doesn’t slow down at all. He drinks until he’s quite drunk, in fact I’m not confident he can walk on his own. Thankfully I’m sobering up and can drive us both, I concede that the night is a loss and that I’ll have to try and find a way to stop him going tomorrow.

I lead him out of the bar and walk him in the direction of my car. I take him home for the night.

Once he’s safely in bed I get up and leave. Looking forward to collapsing in bed. This night was an utter waste, I failed to tell him my worries and I’m no closer to convincing him to stay away from Mark’s house.

_

Luck is on my side in the end, Damien calls in sick the next day. Not for his hangover, but because hanging around outside on a cold night in hardly any clothes has unsurprisingly resulted in him getting sick.

I visit him after work and I also called Mark on the telephone and told him neither Damien or myself would be able to make it to his poker night, as Damien is sick and I am helping him out until he recovers.

It’s nothing serious so the Doctor doesn’t prescribe anything except bed rest, so I come round to look after him. He doesn’t need me to specifically, of course. But I always look out for my friends, and it’s completely my fault he’s sick.

Spending so much time with Damien brings guilt to the forefront of my mind, I hadn’t thought of what I’m doing as running away but it is really. I’m leaving William to fall prey to Mark’s trap.

Guilt burning in my chest I decide to call William the day before the party and tell him Damien is sick, I make it out to sound a little worse than it is. And I tell him that Damien is asking for him.

I feel uncomfortable manipulating them all like this, but I don’t know how else to stop this tragedy from happening.

In fact how can I let any of this happen? What kind of person am I to stand by and watch this house corrupt Mark this way. I have to stop all of this. And there’s only one other person I need to find to do it.

After William arrives I tell Damien that I have some business that can’t wait and that I’ll be back soon. Another lie, not that I’m counting.

It’s surprisingly easy to find Celine, she has a small fortune-telling business. It’s walk in thankfully, as there isn’t time for me to make an appointment.

She ushers me in and starts what is likely her practised pitch, all the while more subtly scrutinising me.

I interrupt her.

“Celine.” She stops, and I see her contain her frustration at my interruption.

“Yes?” She asks in a deceptively kind voice.

“I’m not here to be told about my future, I’m here about your brother.” I’m hoping Damien is the right angle, she must care for him. I need her too for this to work.

Any previous fake niceness disappears from her expression.

“Who are you and why are you asking about him?” The malice in her voice gives me some hope that she’s being protective of him.

“I’m a friend of his from college, he’s in grave danger and I need your help.” She scrutinises me further, mostly likely looking for the lie in my words.

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because you’ve been in Mark’s house. You know there’s something wrong about that place, but it’s more than you could ever guess. It is going to get your brother killed tomorrow.” That’s an outright lie of course and even in the context of my dream it’s an exaggerated but it’s close enough to the truth.

“I have sensed something strange about that place, and I can tell there is more to you than meets the eye. But how could you know what the future holds?” She leans forward a little and stares.

“I’ve had this dream for years, the same dream. At first I just thought it was a nightmare, but recently I’ve realised that there are things in that dream I couldn’t have known but are true. Like how William would become a Colonel or that… ” I pause and look at her, she’s watching me with interest.

“You and Mark would part in such a way as you did. I couldn’t have known any of it, but it was all in the dream. At Mark’s poker night everything goes terribly wrong and everyone except the Colonel ends up dead.” I say with dread.

“I will tell Damien not to go to the party and you would be wise to do the same.” She says beginning to stand.

“No wait! I’ve already tried to talk him out of it, but he won’t listen. It’s Mark’s way of mending bridges or something, he won’t miss it.” I say it like I believe it, I tell myself it’s true. And Celine doesn’t seem to question it, she sits back down.

“Then what do you have in mind?” I try not to show the relief that washes through me when she says that.

“If we can get Mark out of the house for a while I can start a small fire. I’ll keep it contained, just enough to postpone the party.” She raises a brow.

“And after that?” I blush.

“I… I haven’t thought that far ahead.” Despite our similar height I get the distinct feeling of being looked down on.

“You haven’t even thought that far ahead.” I make to say something, she interrupts. “Don’t. That house is more powerful than you could imagine, I will deal with it.” That’s exactly what I needed to hear, I knew she wanted the power of the house for herself. Too bad she’s not going to get it.

She calls him and sets a meeting place, she tells me to be quick about it.

As I leave I notice the sun setting, good it’s better to be doing this at night.

_

I drive most of the way to Mark’s Manor, parking a short distance away. It takes me several minutes to hop the fence, I’m not as spry as I use to be.

I notice that Mark’s car is already gone, which just leaves me to get his staff out of the house. I find and convince the grounds keeper to distract Mark’s staff for a short time.

I don’t stay any longer as he’s not a particularly pleasant person to speak with. I sneak around the back and into a small shed to find the gasoline.

As I hear the front door open and loud conversation start I creep up to a window and carefully open it. It suddenly strikes me how odd this is, me the District Attorney breaking into someone’s house to commit arson.

On the upside I only have one witness who might report me, but she doesn’t have any evidence. I don’t exactly know what I’ll do about how pissed off she will likely be but that’s something to worry about after I’ve finished setting fire to this house.

Once inside I make my way to the kitchen and turn on the gas. This is hardly going to look like an accident but anything that speeds up the burning is good.

I make my way to the lounge where several candles sit and I pour gasoline over the furniture. I quickly assess all the windows in the room and open one close to me.

I walk over to the candles and raise my hand. I hesitate for just a second, am I really going to do this?

But then I remember exactly what is in this house, I have too. I knock over a candle and bolt over to the window. I jump out and run a short distance away. I turn back to see that the lounge room has indeed caught fire.

I run all the way back to my car and drive to the office. After a careful change of clothes I stay there for a while. Making sure that the cleaner sees me when they come in.

Mostly I sit and try to relax, I’m the District Attorney. No one is going to think I burnt down the house of one of my friends. It’s going to be fine.

I go back to Damien’s later that night. I carry a great deal of guilt with me over everything that’s happened today but watching Damien and William laugh and bicker I know it was worth it. Despite all the drama I sleep well that night, better than I’ve slept in a long time.

_

There’s drama after the fire, an investigation sure. I’m never even questioned personally.

As the trail goes cold things quiet down. I know Celine will be an issue eventually so I read up on the occult as best I can. I also spend as much time as I can with Damien.

Seeing him happy and alive makes it all worth it, even on the days guilt weighs on me.

As time goes on it fades to the back of my mind and I enjoy my time with my friends, life feeling all the more precious knowing I nearly lost it.

A year later Damien asks me out for drinks again but I know there’s something he wants to tell me, he’s been acting strange for a while.

After we order our first drinks he nervously starts to speak. I listen closely and I freeze at his words. He stops speaking and looks at me waiting for an answer.

“Yes, I accept Damien. I have wanted a romantic relationship with you for a very long time.” He smiles blindingly bright.

We only drink a little more before going back to my house and sharing dinner.

A Few Weeks Later:

Looking over at Damien I smile, he’s the best man I have ever known and I am more lucky than words can describe to be with him.

He glances up at me and smiles back. Our gaze holds for a moment before he looks back down at his work.

Sitting and waiting for him to finish the last of his work for the day is rather boring and my mind begins to wander.

The dream crosses my mind and I feel that guilt for the first time in a very long time. I look back up at him. Watching him I know I have to tell him.

When he finishes his work he gets up to leave but I stop him.

“There’s something I need to tell you Damien, and it’s going to sound crazy.”

He sits down ready to listen.

I tell him about my dream first, and how many times I had it. I tell him about all the things I couldn’t possibly have known that were in it, and how on the eve of Mark’s failed poker night that lead me to believe it was a premonition. My actions were wrong, that I know but at the time I let my fear control me. I was scared to lose you and scared to die, so I did everything I could to stop the party.

At this I pause and study him, trying to see how he is taking this.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks.

“I did try to, why do you think I invited you out for drinks? But I lost my nerve in the end. I was just lucky you got sick from being out in the cold.” He nods and gestures for me to continue.

I tell him that as I watched him laying there sick I realised that I was a coward. William was still going to walk right into Mark’s trap. And even Mark wasn’t truly to blame for all this, it was that dreaded house. I knew I needed to do something about it.

Damien looks like he’s figured out where this is going but I continue on.

I didn’t know anything about whatever was in that house, and I knew even less about how to get rid of it. So I took drastic measures, I lured Mark and his staff away from the house and burnt it down. I finish speaking and watch Damien. He looks to be deep in thought. After a few minutes he speaks.

“I won’t pretend to fully understand or even believe you.” I cringe a little at this but he continues.

“But I trust you implicitly Y/N. And I know you weren’t lying throughout your story so I will try to understand and believe you, it may take some time though.” He says somewhat hesitantly.

Tears gather in my eyes and as hard as I try I cannot help but cry. He gets up and comes over to me, hugging me.

“I never thought you’d say that. I thought this would be the end of us, I thought you’d just turn me over to the police.” He chuckles a little.

“You should know I would never do that.” He replies. I relax, in his arms knowing everything is going to be okay.


End file.
